


Greed

by Kuraagins



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Sorry guys, kind of??, the porn isn't too in detail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:17:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7878004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuraagins/pseuds/Kuraagins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're greedy and awful, and they're terribly aware of it. Not that they're going to change, of course. </p><p>Written for PxS week day 5</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greed

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short one today! I don't really know what's going on with the canon divergence in this fic, just roll with it  
> Hope you enjoy!

She's greedy, she knows, as she reaches for the last lemon cake at dinner. 

Her aunt Lysa frowns at her and tells her that she will grow fat and undesirable if she continues to eat the way she does. So she puts the cake back. 

Petyr purses his lips at his wife as she glares at Sansa. She's sure that hates her, and he has nothing to politically gain, so why did he marry her? Why say those vows when you intend on sneaking into another girl's bedroom every night and break them? Sansa could hardly judge him for that though. She's the one who allows him to touch her in those sinful ways. Ever since she decided to give him her maidenhead instead of Lord Tyrion when she learnt of her betrothal, she had willingly let him have intercourse with her nightly. Sometimes, she even went to him like the terrible, greedy girl she is. 

Sansa decides not to eat anymore after her scolding, but watches as her aunt Lysa piles her plate high for the second time that evening. They eat together like this most evenings. "Like a happy family," Lysa had exclaimed during their first meal together, but Sansa knew that they were no family. Sansa mislikes her aunt, who feels the same without a doubt, she has to act like a mother to her young cousin whom she is soon to be betrothed to, and nightly she fucks the man who is her uncle by law. There is nothing happy nor familial about their situation. 

It doesn't take long for her to get tired of her aunt's judgemental stares as she almost shovels the food into her mouth.

"Might I be excused?" Sansa asks, "I'm afraid I'm rather tired and I wish to retire to bed," 

Lysa narrows her eyes at her niece and waves her away with a roll of her eyes, unable to speak with her mouth full of food. As she's walking out the room, Sansa can feel Petyr's eyes following her, staring at her back. Just the feel of his gaze sends chills of anticipation down her spine. 

She's an awful, greedy girl and she knows it. But she still prays that Petyr will visit her tonight. That he will make her feel loved again.

 

\----------

 

He's greedy, he knows, as he thrusts into the girl underneath him. 

It's easy to manipulate a young girl like her, and he wants so much to make her love him. Partly because with love came trust, and with her trust he can win the North and further his piece in the game of thrones. Partly because he's a selfish, greedy sod and wants every part of the girl. Her body isn't enough for him. Mind and soul too is what he will own of her soon enough. 

There was a slight... Issue though. Petyr had promised himself that he would not fall in love with the girl. She is the daughter of the woman who helped to killed his innocence and her foolish husband. The niece of the woman who raped him, wife to the imp and young enough to be his daughter. Sansa Stark (or Lannister, until they killed the dwarf) is all of these thing, all of these people that he should hate her for being. 

But he didn't hate her. Couldn't hate her. She's a beauty, anyone can see that, but when she came to his chambers that night in Kings Landing, sobbing and pleading, he started to lose control of his feelings of simple lust towards the girl. 

"Just one fuck, that's all I'll allow myself," he had told himself sternly as he undressed the lady. But after waking up hard and thinking of that gorgeous red hair and innocent blue eyes a couple of nights later, he had snuck into her chambers and asked to take her again. 

And so it continued, until he was visiting her nightly to bring her pleasure, to bring himself pleasure, with the brief interval of when he had to flee Kings Landing in order to rescue her on Joffrey's wedding day. Before long, the reasons for his nightly visits became less and less about lust.

She cries out his name and Petyr reluctantly has to shush her, reminding her that they must not be heard. Sansa nods and wraps her legs around him, pulling herself closer to him. And he's glad that she does, because if she didn't close the gap between them he'd end up doing it himself, and he couldn't have her seeing how much he truly craves her. Cares for her.

Sansa pushes her face into Petyr's shoulder to muffle her sounds, panting heavily against his sweaty skin, making it so hot it feels like he's burning. He wishes to stay silent like he does with Lysa, but she's too good, too perfect, and so he forces himself to keep his noises to low grunts into her ear. It's so hard for him not to cry out her name like he's so desperate to, but he needs to stay in control. In his mind he thinks that if he acts like he cares less, then it will make it so. Deep down though, he knows that he's in denial. 

When he releases himself inside her though, he betrays himself. 

"Sansa," he hisses, and if he wasn't feeling such ecstasy from the whimpering girl then he would have cursed himself for it in his mind. 

He doesn't know why he stays with her for almost an hour. All sensible parts of his brain are screaming that he needs to leave if he wants to keep control of this stupid attraction, and yet he stays. Probably because she's lying on his chest, thoroughly kissing his long scar. A wretched thing, but he'd gladly stare at it all day if it had Sansa's lips attached to it. Petyr hears himself whispering sweet words to the girl, telling her of her beauty, of her sweetness. 

"It's to manipulate her," he rationalises, "to make her love me." 

He's an awful, greedy man and he knows it. But he will still visit her the next night, and the night after, and all nights to come.


End file.
